


Blood on White Roses

by haechance



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, M/M, Mob Boss Jungwoo, Nurse Lucas, i dont know how this is gonna go!!, lmao thats a lil different, my first fic!, tags will be updated!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haechance/pseuds/haechance
Summary: Lucas measured time in hospital shifts and heart rates, while Jungwoo measured time in deals and the world bending at his fingertips.





	1. prologue

Lucas knew death.  
He knew how to administer morphine to a patient on their last gasps of air. He knew each function and every score on the Glasgow Coma Scale. He knew when attempting resuscitation was pointless. Lucas could tell you everything in his textbooks about death- clinical, biological, brain. What his textbooks never taught him was the hollowness in a mother’s eyes as she watches her child fade out, their grasp on her hand weakening. The palpable terror and tension in the room against the calm, closed-eyed face of a crash victim whose heart rate is slowing to a stop. The wrenching in his own heart when he knew he could have, should have, saved a patient. The weight of his guilt and the faces of the patient’s family as he leaves the ward, holding back tears and vomit. The useless pity as he sits slumped over in the hospital cafeteria, shaking, as older nurses pat his back and say,  
“You’ll get used to it.”  
Lucas doesn’t think he ever will.

Jungwoo knew death.  
He knew right where to aim to kill. He knew the difference between screams of terror and screams of pain. He knew just the right words and men to send to talk to any petty gang leaders, defectors, or unscrupulous CEOs who step out of line. Jungwoo relished in the blood spilt on the linoleum floors of his headquarters, his inferiors running to dispose of the body and bringing in mops at the wave of his hand. To him, death was a way of life. A necessity in his line of work, and nothing more than a temporary inconvenience were it to befall his own men. A matter of numbers and figures, but also a craft of many colours.  
Jungwoo doesn’t fear death.  
After all, he has no one to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes!! i just wanna know,, is this a good idea?? I haven't written anything in years and I don't know what I'm doing but I woke up in a cold sweat and was like oh my god,,, lucas in scrubs,,, and then this happened  
> please,, tell me if my writing is shit so far/if this is a terrible idea,,,


	2. the lights we chase

The intensive care unit air bristled with disinfectant, stinging Lucas’ nose through his mask as he hurried to the staff room, fresh black clogs squeaking along with him. Being new in the hospital and an uncommon sight in a largely female workforce, he was eager to prove his worth to the other nurses. On his first day on the job, he offered to take extra shifts for the rest of the week with the determination of a little boy who would stop at nothing to get to a jar of cookies placed on a high shelf. The other nurses laughed at him, but he stood his ground.

Four days later, he regretted it.

He knew what he signed up for, but he had seen too many bar fight victims, too many stupid people in A&E, and had to insert  _ way  _ too many foley catheters for his liking. Instead of saving lives like he envisioned, he was fending off flirty old ladies with broken hips who pressed the nurse call button multiple times a day  _ “just to see you, dearie.” _

The overstuffed, fraying armchair in the staff room groaned as Lucas collapsed into it.

“Hard day?”

Lucas let out a defeated screech which devolved into a weak sob as he curled up in the chair.

“Mood,” Doyoung mumbled offhandedly, grabbing a cup and heading towards the coffee maker. Doyoung, being one of the few other male nurses at the hospital, took Lucas under his wing. The two had become close friends in the space of a week, despite Doyoung’s initial reluctance to having to take care of someone.

_ “You won’t have to take care of me,”  _ Lucas swore with an affirmative nod of his head before promptly walking into a table.

“Here. Don’t burn yourself,” Doyoung said, passing a mug of coffee to him. He raised a limp hand and whimpered a thanks.

“Let me guess,” Doyoung sighed, pulling up a chair next to him.

“The old ladies?”

“They just won’t stop calling me handsome and asking me to talk to them and I don’t have the heart to say no!” Lucas whined. 

“It’s just, I came here to save people, you know? Not patch up drunk middle aged men and screaming kids who don’t even thank me. I mean, not that I  _ want _ to see all the blood and guts and death, but…” He rolled over in his chair to face the other man.

“I don’t know. I just want to be part of something bigger. Like, I want to know that I helped someone make it to their ninetieth birthday, or that I kept someone who might not have wanted to stay alive, around until they found a reason to keep their heart beating. I don’t know.”

“I know what you mean,” Doyoung smiled gently.

“I was like that as well when I was new. But soon enough, you’ll find yourself wanting to go back to the old ladies and screaming children.”

Lucas looked up from his mug to see Doyoung’s normally sharp eyes glazed over. He was staring into nothing, the weight of god knows what hanging over his head and sinking him into the chair.

“Hey,” Lucas began, putting on a smile and placing his hand on Doyoung’s arm, hoping to lift his mood.

“You wanna get lunch or something with me this Saturday? Consider it a ‘survived my first week’ celebration.”

“Sure,” Doyoung laughed, opening his mouth to say more before the harsh beeping of both their pagers rang out. Lucas raised an eyebrow. It was rare for them to get paged at the same time. He pulled out the clunky device and looked at the screen.

_ “All available personnel to A&E. Multiple gunshot victims.” _

 

-✧❀✧-

“This isn’t kindergarten. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t always fix things, you know,” Jungwoo hummed, leaning back in his seat. The Seoul police superintendent sat on his knees in front of him, eyes trained downwards. He was a short stocky man, and out of his uniform he looked like nothing more than your local midlife-crisis bargoer. Jungwoo was deadly calm, not a hair ruffled on his head, voice velvety smooth.

“What did you do, Seungho?”

“I-I launched a sting operation against you,” The man coughed out. Jungwoo leaned forwards, face inches away from his.

“And did it work?” He whispered. The man shook his head in shame.   
“That’s right,” Jungwoo said, sitting back again.

“All you did was cause a bit of a ruckus and get a couple people killed. Not just my men, but yours as well, along with a few innocent bystanders. And you know how much I hate getting the public involved.” Jungwoo extended a leg and tilted up Seungho’s head with a perfectly polished shoe.

“So, Seungho, for the sake of your family, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll resign,” He whimpered.

“I’ll say I made a mistake and we had the wrong target and no one will hear from me again.”

“There we go,” Jungwoo smiled, standing up. He snapped his fingers and his guards stepped forwards to grab Seungho by the arms.

“Drop him off. Be inconspicuous about it.” 

The guards forced a blindfold over the struggling man and began to escort him out.

“And, Seungho,” Jungwoo began.

“Don’t forget your promise.”

The penthouse doors slammed shut.

Most people in his position were cautious about being alone without their guards, but Jungwoo preferred solitude. Even guards couldn’t always be trusted, as he had learned first hand on his way to the top of the hierarchy. Anyways, in a penthouse on the top floor of a skyscraper with heavy security on the floors beneath him, there was little to fear. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he ambled over to the TV, switching it on. A reporter appeared, standing in front of a hospital.

_ “In there are the thirty-nine victims of yesterday’s club shooting, twelve of which have died. Sources believe it was a police raid gone wrong. The police superintendent is scheduled to release a statement on the subject tomorrow…” _

Jungwoo smiled. Even the media was learning not to point fingers at him now. He didn’t get into his career because he wanted the world to tremble under his name, but at this point?

Might as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter hhhHHHhH  
> please,,, talk to me,,, feedback,, i have no sense of whether my writing is shit or not,,,  
> also these chapters are short as hecc and come once every 3 years sorry
> 
> discuss jungwoo kicking a man to death in shiny leather shoes w/me on twitter @_lavieennoir_  
> or discuss junguwu w/ me on youtube @audinyu


End file.
